Blye tried giving Maggie the time she needed to heal, but in wake of the attack Captain Hadad’s patience quickly wore thin. Despite her protests she found herself forced to wake her patient, who true to form did not take the interruption well.

She and Prash had propped her up to a sitting position with pillows, and even though she was wrapped like a mummy with bandages for her burns, the Knights had relented and uncovered her eyes. The lights gave her a headache but being blind just plain scared her.

“...goddamn it, how dead do I gotta be ‘fore you leave me the hell alone?” she snapped after they shooed the others out of the room. She glared at the Corsair, while Mairead hovered nearby. “I was right, wasn’t I? That damn pulse woke up the drones.”

“A handful, at least,” he admitted, “though at least the attacks weren’t coordinated. It looks like the effects of the Eleexx weapon are permanent.”

“Still almost got us killed,” Maggie growled. “I told you from the start this mission was a terrible idea.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” he fired back. “We’re here now, and we’re still in one piece.” He paused for a moment, taking in her bandages. “...more or less,” he amended.

“So...even after all this, you’re still goin’ through with it,” she said, “no matter how many lives you risk.”

Remi sighed. “Maggie...everything you said about me is true. I’m a pirate, a smuggler, a forger...whatever it takes to get the job done. My hands are as dirty as they come, and I don’t apologize for it. Never wasted a second’s thought on the ‘Big Picture’, because just making it through the day is tough enough. But this…” His voice trailed away for a moment, as he got a distant look in his eyes. “What if we could find that planet? Find it and claim it. Just think what that could mean for us.”

“It’s nothin’ but a damn pipe dream,” she scoffed. “Even if we found it, we’d never be able to hold it. The Troika or somebody else would just push aside and take it for themselves.”

“Then why haven’t they?” he demanded. “All these eons, no other race has even set foot on it. Why?”

“Cause of that ‘Guardian’ the Oivu told us about,” she answered.

The captain snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Exactly. They can’t get in. Whatever’s guarding that system has kept them away for a billion years. Only somehow, one lone human scout ship found a way in...and I would very much like to learn how.”

That gave her pause. Truth be told, she’d been asking those same questions herself, but after her clash with the Yīqún drone the fight seemed to have gone right out of her. Damnit, she was tired. Couldn’t they understand that?

Only it seemed the pirate wasn’t quite finished with her. “You were the one agitating for it in the first place, Maggie,” he reminded her, “and you got all of us on board. You giving up on us? Going soft?”

“I’ll show you soft,” she spat, shaking her fist at him. “I’m old, I’m worn out...and I hurt, goddamn it!”

Remi considered that for a moment and seemed to mellow slightly. “I appreciate that, and I owe you for saving my ship and crew. But the job’s not done, and right now I need your brain, not your hands. We still need to find that transponder, but I’m not sending out another pulse, not after what happened. So how do we go about finding that body?”

She looked over at Mairead. “Ask her.”

“He did,” the Tinker replied, “only I got no idea how to do it.”

“Well, what makes you think I do?”

“Because I’ve seen your work,” the Tinker answered. “Your engine repair after our escape? The sensor upgrades?” Mairead shook her head. “I’m good...but you’re better.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Lord, I don’t know…” she muttered, as she considered the problem. Assuming the body hadn’t reentered the atmosphere or ejected into deep space, the volume they needed to search was huge. They’d buried him in roughly the same orbit as they’d found him, 36,000 km above Earth, so doing the math and adding a 100 km orbital fudge factor to be safe, it worked out to two hundred billion cubic kilometers of volume.

Impossible.

...or was it? Her brow furrowed as she considered the problem, oblivious to the shared glance between Mairead and her captain. Active pulses were out of the question...she was in complete agreement about that...but what about a passive search? Something that didn’t emit a signal? Something that worked like a radio telescope, but tuned into the same frequency as the transponder? Maggie turned the idea over and over in her head as she looked for flaws, but the only thing she could find wrong was they’d need some massive pre-existing transmitters, along with some sort of template…

She blinked in surprise as the answer hit her.

“I know that expression,” Mairead grinned. “You thought of something.”

“Maybe,” she allowed. “Not sure how well it’ll work, but there might be a way. Might.”

“I’ll take it,” Remi told her. “So what do we need to do?”

Maggie gave him an even look. “You still got that body stashed in the airlock?” she asked.

The sensor upgrades they’d added to spot the Tu’udh’hizh’ak frigate served them well now. Mairead had already seen to the critical repairs following their skirmish with the Yīqún, and all that was really needed to make her idea work was some calibration. They were using existing equipment, just not in the way it had been designed.

Given her injuries, they had relegated her to an advisory role, overseeing the adjustments Mairead was making to the system. Eyeing the console, she punched the intercom button and paged the engineer.

“What’s that transponder frequency again?” she asked.

“...9.683Ghz,” came the reply. “I checked it three times to be sure.”

“Got it,” Maggie answered, punching it into the computer. Mairead had pulled the frequency from the body they’d retrieved prior to the attack. The transponders were identical, so it was a good bet they’d been part of the same SAR network. It just made sense to have all the transponders emitting the same signal, otherwise you’d have to search all over the dial...dangerous, when lives were at stake.

But that was only half the equation. For this to work they also needed a radio transmitter, something other than Gyrfalcon herself. Something that would pump out enough radio waves for the transponder to react to, however faintly.

And just 150 million kilometers away was the biggest radio source in the system…Sol herself.

Earth also put out radio waves, mostly from lightning...what atmosphere that had survived the attack was still thick enough to generate the bolts of electricity. There was even a trickle of energy coming in from far off Jupiter, proving yet again that size does matter. Maggie snorted as she aligned the antennas; between the three of them, they had the search grid pretty well covered.

But it was still a hell of a lot of ground to cover.

Tapping the intercom again, she rang up the pilot. “Xiulan, you got a search pattern laid out yet?”

The answer came back immediately. “It’s programmed and locked into the Nav computer,” she informed her. “I just hope no one is expecting miracles. It could take months to comb through that much space, and with a moving target? It could still slip right through our fingers.”

“Let’s hope that don’t happen,” she sighed, ending the call. Xiulan wasn’t wrong, but it was what they had. If this didn’t work...then she was all out of ideas. Maggie double-checked the data and then shrugged. It was out of her hands now.

“...have you given any thought about what happens if we find it?” she heard behind her. Craning her neck, she saw Alphad’s image staring back at her from one of the monitors.

“Some,” she admitted. “I reckon that’s when things go pear-shaped.”

“Most likely,” the Avatar agreed. “We’re coming to the Endgame now, and someone...whether it’s the Troika or somebody else...will make their move. Any thoughts on how to dodge that bullet?”

“Not a one,” she grimaced. “You?”

“Nothing I’m prepared to share just yet,” he informed her. “I guess we just keep our eyes open, and our powder dry.”

“Outstanding,” she said sourly. “Let me know if anyone tries killing us.”

“You’ll be the first,” he grinned at her, before signing off and blanking his screen.

Leveraging herself up from the chair, she gripped the handles of the device Mairead had put together for her with her bandaged hands; a light-weight rectangular frame with four large wheels attached, one for each leg. She’d balked at the idea of a wheelchair while she healed, and since staying in bed when there was work to be done was unacceptable, she’d tolerated the contraption as a compromise. Even so, it was slow going maneuvering herself back to her compartment before collapsing onto her cot with a weary groan.

“Just how long are you planning on torturing yourself?” Rúna asked her, while she struggled to find a comfortable position that wouldn’t aggravate the worst of her injuries.

“My idea,” she grumbled, as Diggs appeared at her side to cover her with a thin blanket. She smiled at the boy, reaching out to tousle his hair as the Valkyrie just shook her head.

“You’re going to stubborn yourself straight into an early grave, you know that?” she cautioned her.

“...up to the crew now,” she mumbled, her eyelids growing heavy as she drifted off to sleep.

The ship’s alarm yanked Maggie awake. “All Hands, Security Lockdown is in effect. Remain in your cabins until the All-Clear is given. For your own safety, do not attempt to move about the ship.” It was an automated signal on repeat, accompanied by flashing lights and klaxons, and as she clutched at her blanket in fear Maggie’s imagination began conjuring up wild scenarios to explain the alert, each more horrifying than the last. “Master, what are we supposed to…”

...the words died in her throat, as she spotted the empty cot.

As frightened as she was, the thought of Master Schnoebelen wandering around the ship during a Security Lockdown flat out terrified her. He was no longer a young man. What if something were to happen to him? That was one reason she’d come on this cursed mission in the first place, so she could look after him. He’d been like a father to her since she’d started her apprenticeship, and the thought of losing him scared her more than any fears she might have had for her own safety.

They’d locked the hatch, but against even an apprentice Tinker it proved to be no match. Within just a couple of minutes she’d disengaged the override, the hatch sliding open as she peeked her head out into the corridor. She couldn’t see anything, but she had to assume there was danger out there somewhere. Taking a moment to snag a few chosen tools and tuck them into her belt, Maggie armed herself with a crowbar and edged her way down the passage, searching for her Master.

Coming around the corner, she found the body.

It only took a second to realize it wasn’t Master Schnoebelen, even as she recoiled in fear. The garish clothing made him instantly recognizable...Zajiddi, the Dharmist. They’d cut his throat. He sat on the deck with his legs splayed, an expression of surprise on his face as he stared into nothing.

“Oh God,” she whispered, backing away, “oh God oh God oh God oh God…” Maggie turned and fled, racing for the compartment she’d just vacated and the safety of a locked hatch...only to skid to a halt as she heard footsteps coming towards her. Reversing her course once again, she turned and ran in a blind panic, desperate to get away from whoever was stalking the corridors of Katabasis. She came to a T junction and turned left, taking her into Ship’s Stores. Lots of places to hide, she convinced herself, only to stumble and fall as her feet got tangled up in something, the crowbar flying out of her hands and clanging across the deck like a gong, giving away her position.

As she staggered to her feet, she found the Cargo Officer, Sharma…shot point-blank in the head.

Maggie screamed and bolted, the crowbar left behind where it had fallen, as she ran for her life.

“...No!”

Maggie bolted upright, throwing the blanket off her and tumbling out of her cot, only to land with a thump onto the hard deck plates. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she fought to remember where she was, as Diggs whimpered in fear at the sight of her in panic. A heartbeat later Rúna was at her side, helping her to her feet.

“Are you okay, Maggie?” she asked.

“...I’m...fine…” she wheezed, “...just...a bad dream.”

The redhead nodded in understanding as she sat her back down on the cot. Dropping to her haunches, she looked her in the eye. “They’re getting worse, aren’t they?” she asked quietly.

Maggie looked away, before bowing her head. “...yes,” she whispered.

“You should talk to Blye,” Rúna suggested, as Maggie reached out for Diggs and drew him in close. “Knights have some psych training.”

“Can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I just...can't.”

The corporal sighed, making her way back to her own cot and sitting down. “I know a little about bad dreams,” she told her. “Had a few myself. And the one thing I know is you keep them bottled up like that...eventually, they go off like a bomb.”

She ran her fingers through her hair as she struggled with her breathing, fighting to calm down. It took several minutes before she was back under control, with Rúna and Diggs watching her in silence the whole time.

“It ain’t the dreams that scare me,” she said at last. “Lived with those most my life. It’s just…” She fumbled for the words, before lifting her head and staring at the young Valkyrie. “There're things I wish I didn’t know.”

She took that in, mulling it over. “I’m guessing you’re not ready to talk about it,” she said at last.

“No,” Maggie mumbled, “not yet. Maybe not ever.”

Rúna didn’t seem surprised. “Must be one hell of a secret.”

Maggie didn’t trust herself to speak; instead she only gripped the boy tighter...making him whimper once again.